The Haunting Gallop of Midnight
Where shadows carry the dead
Last month, my wife and I went to her brother’s house in a historical town shrouded in spooky stories.
As the clock approached midnight, my brother-in-law told me an alarming story that nibbled at the boundaries of my mind.
He described the ghostly horse cart man who waits in the dark, waiting for naive passengers.
His lifeless eyes shine through the fog, and the piercing clatter of horses fills the quiet streets well after midnight.
Fifty years ago, the man died unbelievably — a distorted body, a cracked cart, and no trace of fight.
He is said to roam, looking for the ride he never completed.
The locals verified the rumor; their faces paled with terror.
That night, when the shadows crept outside, I swear I heard it: the distant, reverberating beat of ghostly horses.
It was a sound that pierced my bones as if death had arrived…
